Hey there. It’s late in the day, just as I predicted, but we’re finally back from the city! I spent most of my day today in San Francisco as an early birthday celebration, and I’m running on less than two hours of sleep.
To say the least, I’m pretty exhausted. I honestly want nothing more than to go to bed and lay there until morning… but I’m not going to do that. I haven’t written my 1,000 words for the day, and I’m not about to break my streak when I’m this far into the year and writing every day like I am.
So. I shall carry onward! And it’s Saturday (a day of many typos, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve hit the backspace button), which means that it is time for me to answer my writing prompt. So. Breathe in – breathe out. And here we go.
The Prompt Said:
One day as you were cleaning you noticed air being sucked towards the base of wall near the cupboard. Perplexed you went closer to investigate. The air was going in, slightly yet in. You hold your breath and gingerly peel away at the wallpaper until a huge wrought iron door stands before you. Where does it lead? Did you imagine this? What happens next?
The Siren’s Door
I hate cleaning. It’s probably one of my least favorite things to do. I guess it’s because I always feel like I could be spending my time on something much more valuable, like daydreaming, or reading a book. Maybe there’s just a part of me that is secretly spiteful for the dust bunnies that live in the overly large house that I’m taking care of – I say taking care of with annoyance in my voice, because it wasn’t really my decision. My father died when I was eleven years old, and my step-mother has made sure to let me know that if I don’t do chores around the house, I won’t be staying in the house.
I wish that I could call her evil, I really do. It might make my story a bit more interesting – I wish that I could say that she took my room and threw away everything that reminded me of how much my father loved me… but she didn’t. She kept the pictures of us posing as a family hanging on the walls, and she made sure that I was comfortable in my room. There were nights, after he first died, that she let me come into the bedroom where my Father used to sleep with her, and we’d cry together until we fell asleep.
Clara isn’t evil – she’s just a very strict mother, and she believes in earning your keep. She’s also a busy woman, who works two full time jobs to make sure that we can keep the house that I grew up in; the house where she first met my Father, when she came here to help him with his financial planning. The house meant a lot to both of us, even though the big Victorian was more than we needed on our lonesome.
I didn’t even have step-sisters who were full of malice to spice up my story. All that I had was the large Victorian house, with its peeling wallpaper like a silent witness to the fact that we weren’t quite keeping up with its care…
And I was wiping the baseboards in the kitchen when I noticed it. A draft spilled through the air, sending tendrils of black hair swirling around my face and tickling my nose. I brushed the chin length strands behind my ear and continued wiping down the cupboards that had somehow accumulated enough dust that they warranted a cleaning. I’d just cleaned them the week before, so I was a little irked with the fact that they were so dirty again.
The draft spilled through the room again, swirling my hair and the infuriating dust. I spun quickly to look at the window… but it was closed. The air wasn’t on – the house was cool, because it was fall. We didn’t need to open the windows or turn on the heat or air just yet… and we both knew that it was better that way, because the house was expensive to regulate, temperature wise.
So, where was the draft coming from? I turned, brown eyes curious, and felt it again, rustling my hair and bringing my attention to the wall.
To the wall? It was almost like it was breathing at me, a gentle whisper, a cadence and promise that I would discover that the house had truly been alive all along, if I simply approached.
I couldn’t help it – curiosity was my vice. I stepped closer and knelt, my bare knees touching the floor as I lowered my head. I felt it this time, cooler, almost musky smelling… but it was coming from the baseboard, beneath peeling wallpaper. My fingers came out, perplexed, and I pulled at the flaking sheet, ripping it upwards with a small pulse of satisfaction pouring through me at the action.
What was strange, however, was the fact that there wasn’t wood behind the paper… but metal.
I wasn’t sure, but I thought it was iron. My hands made quick work of the rest of the wall covering, until I was slightly out of breath, and staring wide eyed at a giant door standing in front of me – wrought iron, and older than even the house had any rights… and it was nothing that I’d seen before.
More than that, it didn’t make sense, because not five feet to the other side of the door, our flat screen television was mounted on the wall. The door should have led to nowhere, but I could feel the breeze pulsing from beneath it, and the handle begged me to pull it open.
Transfixed, almost bespelled, I could do nothing but follow the compulsion that brought my hand forward and against the handle.
The metal was almost too hot to touch.
I opened the door, and that cool breeze instantly turned into a gust so strong that it nearly sucked me forward – I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I was standing on the solid wood floor in my kitchen…
But I wasn’t.
Because on the other side of the door, in complete contrast to the sun that shone outside, three moons spanned over a vast, black ocean… the wind whipped, spilling my hair forward, and the salt stung my nose, my eyes…
And in the distance, I could hear a voice singing – lulling, alluring… calling to me. I didn’t think about it – I didn’t think about anything but that voice. I just stepped through the door, and heard a resounding slam as it closed behind me.
Sorry if that was a little scattered ❤ I’m so tired, but I wanted to make sure that I got my words out!
So, if you’ve responded to this, let me know so that I can link you in the space below! I’d love to see what you come up with! I know that we all have so many worlds and stories waiting inside of us! Let one out! Remember, I post writing prompts every Sunday, and you have a chance to be featured in my response on the following Saturday! Just fill the prompt and link back to my blog, and you’ll be featured in the space below! (Updated at the end of the day.)
Responses to the Prompt:
Until next time, guys, keep reading and writing!
Author Amanda McCormick
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